I couldn’t have been happier. And that’s precisely why I had to leave.

I was back in the old stomping grounds this weekend, for the sunny and blissful wedding of one of my old friends from high school. They all came. From all parts of the country, putting down their jobs and duties, loading up the cars and checking into airports. It was like we were 16 all over again. And that’s why I couldn’t deal with it.

Old grudges were nudged aside. The gap of lost communications cheerfully bridged for the sake of comradery. We picked up right where we left off and it felt good. The problem for me, however, is in the goodbye. The exit. The bittersweet embrace of departing friends. And that’s why I left without a word. Again.

Many think I’m crazy or weird, and while I do not in *any* way dispute such charges, I think more often than not my actions are misinterpreted. I’m sure they thought I slipped away stealthaly as I always do, for many other reasons that what was actually the case. Little do they know that it’s because I was too happy. If I leave at the peak, I don’t have to deal with the unhappiness later. I suppose I’m a purist, or sorts. I take no pictures because I don’t want the perfection of the moment diluted. I need no capture device because what i’m remembering is not slow dances or parties. What I hold in my heart is the friendship of these people. I love my friends, and I fear my words could never express the depth and sincerity of my appreciation for what they give me.

So now we’ve all gone home, repacked the cars and boarded our departing flights. We’re back to not responding to emails and forgetting to call each other back. We’ll wait for the next wedding. And we’ll do it all over. And once more I’ll leave feeling like an amputee with a ghost limb, knowing that what was once there is no more…but not being able to accept it.